Stepping Stones
by Hope Trinket
Summary: -"You've been there for me for as long as I can remember. It don't matter wha' ya do, Rhyme. I've been there for you before, and I ain't gonna turn back now." A collection of PLATONIC one shots for Beat and Rhyme.
1. Ring a Bell

**Author Note: **_First fanfic for this place and I end up writing Beat and Rhyme. No Neku, Shiki, Joshua, or the rest of the cast. But I didn't like how downplayed the relationship between Beat and Rhyme seemed in the game. I felt as if it needed to be expanded on. So I decided on a series of drabbles that take place in absolutely no order. Most are before the game._

_Keep in mind that I do not Private-Message. If you review, I reply to it on chapter 2. Or, if the update takes too long I will review your fanfic in return. But I usually do return the favor so I should either way._

_A drabble, to me, is under 1,000 words. Of course, I normally exceed this limit. Oh, and yes, thank you to Krysta __for convincing me to post this fanfic. And not to mention that this is absolute 'bonding' and still not in my comfort zone._

_I do not own __The World Ends with You__._

* * *

Daisukenojo Bito, preferred Beat since his name absolutely _sucked_ (in his mind that was), had wasted so much time...

...all for a pendant.

All that hard work had eventually paid off right around his sister's tenth birthday. At that time, he was thirteen, searching the streets of Shibuya, swinging by the windows of Tigre Punks and Sheep Havenly to find that "perfect" gift. He wasn't sure what to get her at first: Clothes? A backpack? No, she had that red one since Elementary school... How it survived all the weight of textbooks was unknown to Beat. Maybe he should find out what brand it is and get one for himself.

Racking up the right amount of yen was absurd since the latest catalogue had proudly displayed the bell necklace on the front cover, in large, red letters declaring a good price of 350,000 yen. And at the sight, Beat felt his stomach drop because how could a small bell cost _that much? _It was a bell, and it darn well better have good durability. The last thing he wanted to do is kill time for a cheap piece of crap.

Working at the age of 13 was considered "illegal" in Japan. But he did it anyway. He worked a bit at Sunshine Shibukyu after school and even on the weekends. His parents began questioning him where he was so late at night, but Beat shrugged it off. He supplied with 'extra help in school', but they didn't seem convinced. And how Beat was able to get away with working for a few good weeks was unknown to him. But hey, he got the gift so that was good enough. And neither his mother or father knew what he was getting Raimu (_Rhyme_, he corrects himself). Oh well. It was his business anyway, not theirs.

The night before (bloody procrastination) he wasted even more time trying to wrap the stupid thing in the first place. At one point, he had to get up and walk away, fingers raking through his hair in a fruitless attempt to calm down. He paced to and fro in his room, shooting glares at the bell, as if it were mocking him. Because how do you wrap a _friggin' bell?_

Beat _never _asked for help on how to wrap gifts. Normally, he'd buy the or choose a few and his mother would take it from there. He would go off to play video games or take his skateboard out to Miyashita Park.

And the skateboard...

...from Rhyme.

So this was only fair. He was returning the favor through his own work and he would prove to his parents that he didn't need their help. He could prove that he wasn't a "slacker" and that he wasn't who they thought he was. They were just judging on the outside. Beat wasn't all that bad. A few moments here and there but every kid had them. Why couldn't he?

Eventually, he gave in, asking his mother for a small box.

"What for?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. She didn't trust her son ever since he started coming home late.

Beat glared right back. "All I'm askin' for is a _box_. You know, those really small ones that you can fit jewels and stuff in. I jus' need it for some work at school. You n' pops got a few lyin' 'round since you finished Rhyme's gifts? But mom, what am I gonna do with a box? Kill someone?"

He had a bad habit of saying more than he should, and the whole "kill someone" didn't really help... He smiled cheekily, nervously, at her unyielding expression, feeling the right corner of his mouth twitch. After a while, she had sighed, turning back to her room to search through the piles of wrapping paper and bags. "Fine, just give me a minute," she answered. "And Daisukenojo? Stop talking like those cutthroats." She jerks the small brown package into his open hand. "We did _not _raise you like this, and so I do _not _expect you to behave in such a rude manner either. Understood?" She had her arms folded, foot tapping, blue eyes icy and blonde hair cascading over her shoulders.

"Yeah, I get it, MOM! Damn..." He muttered the curse, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"Daisukeno—"

"An' would you n' pops quit callin' me that? 'S embarrassin'..." And he sped out of the room faster than an automobile before she could reach and pull him aside.

* * *

This could _not _be happening...

Rhyme's party was today – March 16th – and he... He _lost _the gift.

Beat flipped his room upside down (quite literally when it came to the bed), tore through his closet and the many drawers of his bureau, looked under the pile of clothes that littered his room, _and _he even checked his schoolbag. But if he was pretty sure, he couldn't remember touching the darn thing since Friday. So when it was obvious that the gift was lost, he kicked his door in frustration accompanied by a very colorful vocabulary every time his foot struck the wooden surface.

When his mini tantrum was done, he threw himself onto his bed. He waited a few seconds to tick by before peering out the window, forearms resting on the windowsill to support him up. In the backyard lawn was Rhyme with a small group of friends as well as their parents. Beat pressed his face closer to the glass, eyes directed towards the table piled with colorfully wrapped parcels and party bags, but there was no sign of a small, silver wrapped box anywhere. Nope.

"Argh, _forget it_," He banged his forehead against the sill and remained statuesque. After all the hard work and everything... God darn he killed time, he... If Beat allowed himself to, he probably would've started crying right there. But he's a "man", and men don't cry – in his opinion. Personally, his parents wouldn't hold anything against him if he decided to have a meltdown right in front of their face. He's done it before.

_Bang! Bang!_

"Daisukenojo! Quit hiding in your room! This day is very important and you of all people should know that!"

His mother.

Great.

The tapping of her heels against the wooden floor echoed all the way down the stairs. When she was out the door, he knew he was officially the only one in the house. Beat wasn't ready to leave the nest just yet. He needed to recuperate a bit, calm down. Regardless, he kicked off the bed and yanked open the door and made way outside.

So he wouldn't be reprimanded for it later, he put on a positive attitude and acted as if nothing happened throughout her birthday.

* * *

"Your room is a mess... And I can't believe you didn't get your sister a gift. You were asking for a box last night. What happened to it?" He didn't bother answering since his mother was just going to jump right in and shove words down his throat. "All right, well... Clean up and then you can come down to eat." Yep, there it was. Sorta. She seemed tired.

Beat followed orders albeit grudgingly. Might as well clean as fast as he could. After the day's drama and his many episodes over the gift, he was hungry. And as much as he liked sweets and birthday cakes, he just couldn't stomach the vanilla fluff and pink frosting with blue floral prints. It tasted like cardboard in his mouth even though he _knew _that wasn't the actual flavor... His mood greatly affected the foods he ate, he realized.

'_What's wrong, Beat? This is your favorite too, isn't it?'_

'_Yeah, 'course it is! I'm jus'... not that hungry.'_

'_Not _hungry_? You? Are you feeling all right? You know you can talk to me, right?'_

'_Fine. Quit raggin' on me; you're actin' like pops.'_

He didn't mean to snap at Rhyme... But he was upset.

Gathering up the clothes and fabric, he threw them into the two baskets his mother deposited n his room. Beat quickly pulled the covers over the mattress and turned to his closet. He hung up the coats and vests on the hanger without bothering to flatten them out or smooth them down. By the time he turned his attention to the desk in the corner of his room, he was already drained. Sure lifting clothes wasn't considered _hard labor_, but the games at the party and the large group of people was overwhelming.

An empty, plastic cup of a beverage from Sunshine was in his hands when he had kicked a... something underneath the desk. It skittered against the floor, scraping until it stopped with a 'thud' at the wall.

Tossing the drink aside, Beat dropped to the floor, feeling the blood pounding loudly in his ears. Could it be...? Yes, it seemed to flash... The texture was smooth... He shook it...

...it produced a soft ring.

A large grin broke out on his face and Beat snatched it up, jumping with a loud, "Booyaka!" and stampeded down the staircase loudly, box clenched tightly in his right hand. He charged into the dining room, slamming his left hand down on the mahogany table loudly, sending tremors through its surface. The crystal glasses shook and liquid swerved over the rim, staining the cloth a milky white, and the silverware clattered against plates and other utensils. But aside from all that, the disappointed frown on both his parents' faces was the _least _of his concern.

"Daisukenojo, what is _with _you today?"

"Sit down, young man, and we're going to have a talk about this late—"

"Jus' hold your horses, pops! And mom, you too!" he snapped back, eyes narrowed. He knew he was in for more of it later, but in the mean time... Beat turned to Rhyme and plopped down the gift adjacent to her plate. She looked at him with wide, curious blue eyes and Beat nodded in response, grinning. "Here's your present, Rhyme! I found it."

The little girl's eyes expanded even larger, and she glanced from the parcel, to her brother. She grasped the warm box and asked tentatively, "Would it be all right if I opened it now?" She had directed this to her brother and her parents. However, it was the former who responded.

"'Course ya can, Rhyme! Tha's why I got it." He grinned, folding his arms across his chest.

Rhyme nodded, sharing a smile of her own. "Thanks, Beat." And so she began peeling away at the paper. As her gaze landed on the box, she peered under the lid. "Oh, it's..." Petit fingers extracted the thin, black chord which soon revealed the bell. She gasped, mouth agape before facing her brother. "Beat... I..." Her gaze shifted back to the accessory once more. "Thank you!" And before he knew it, she jumped up from her seat and pulled him into a tight hug.

His usual cheeky grin melted into a natural smile as he returned the gesture. Beat was thrilled; he found the gift after hours of searching and worrying. But more importantly, he was glad to see Rhyme's face, the pure bliss and generosity that came off her like waves.

"Happy birthday, Rhyme."


	2. Fuka and Shu

**Author Note: **_I'm sorry this took so long. I've been cramming for exams and, above all else, school work that don't focus on outside tests that have such a huge impact on college. Fun stuff: Scheduling for Senior year, outdoor activity, studying. Plus, it's nice to know if people are actually reading this fanfic. Let me respond quickly to the last reviewers and I'll move on from there:_

**Amulet Misty: **Thank you :) Your comment is very insightful and I truly appreciate it. Oh, he didn't? I thought it was on her birthday... *muses* Thanks, I couldn't help but put in some slight FF8 reference :) Thank you for being patient: Here's the update!

**ElementLegend: **Thanks a lot :) I'm glad you enjoy this, and after the wait, here's chapter.

**Raging Cryopheonix: **(no you spelt it right; don't worry XD) Thank you kindly :) Haha, I'll definitely keep that in mind. I'm glad you found it realistic; that's one of my main goals for these one shots and ficlets. I'm sure and I tried getting her to act the way Beat had described his parents in the game. Thank you, and here's chapter 2.

**Kathy. : **You're awesome, you know that? XD Not only did you review this fanfic, but you reviewed my other one too. I did enable messaging :) I agree about Beat and Rhyme's following. It's a shame. Oh, you don't? That's strange, I thought you did. Your avatar is Shiki so I would think you were... Oh no worries. I understand it can be frustrating to review on mobile. Ahaha, thanks, thank you, you're very kind :)

_I'm really glad with the four reviews, everyone. And I would like to thank the followers: __**Amulet Misty, ElementLEgend, MizuKitsune10, Raging Cryopheonix, **__and of course, __**Darkbunny555**__, as well as the people who added this fanfic, as well as myself, to their favorite lists :)_

_I appreciate this, and as a thanks, here's chapter 2. It is a bit more "angsty" than my last chapter (and shorter). But I hope you all enjoy nonetheless but before continuing, make sure to read the two author notes so you're not confused._

_1) Fuka (_不可) _is considered failing in Japanese. It's an F, basically. Shū (_秀) _is the highest grade you can get and is _hardly _given out in classes or on exams. In short, they're almost like 100% or 96%._

_2) Tenjin is mentioned here. Tenjin is the Shinto God of scholarship, wisdom, I believe. So Beat saying he 'isn't Tenjin', he's basically using the God's name in 'vain', saying he does not possess the unimaginative intelligence of this spirit/kami._

_3) Beat is 14 in this and Rhyme is 11._

_Edit: Thanks to **Nix-the-Neko** for pointing out "pesky" errors._

_I do not own __The World Ends with You__._

* * *

"Daisukenojo..."

Eyelids lifted lazily, revealing blue hues. "Yeah, what?" He reached for the remote and clicked the upper right button, silencing the room before he was reprimanded for something as trivial as a 'powered-on television'.

A stack of three papers were slapped atop the table in front of him with a loud 'thap'. Gazing down at – not the papers- Beat was a man clad in a formal suit with the same blonde hair and cobalt eyes as his son.

"..Fuka. Fuka on the past three exams in maths. This is unacceptable; the schools will turn you down, no one is going to want a student this irresponsible in their school. You're graduating in two years. Why you can't be more like your sister I don't know... You're the older brother so you should start acting like one. Stop daydreaming, get your head out of the clouds and stop flunking your exams. Do you know what fuka means? It's failing, Daisukenojo. On one test it's fine, but three in a row? I just don't know what you're trying to prove..."

"Would ya get off my back, pops?" Beat snapped, arms thrown out in exasperation. "If you n' mom so great why don't you start takin' my exams for me! I ain't Tenjin, so quit actin' as if I'm gonna get shūs and stuff on my tests!"

"Don't you dare use that tone with me, Daisukenojo! It will do you no good and you'll be grounded for a week!" Oh great. The whole 'pointing-the-finger' thing. "That means no more T.V when you come home from school, getting home on time and not at such a ridiculous hour like, oh, I don't know, six in the afternoon? What on earth are you doing out so late?"

That was it.

Beat stood up, trying to maneuver around his father. If he were to snap back or defend himself, they would both end up in a fight that'd have to be split up by Beat's mother. His father had a bad temper as it was as did Beat – they didn't mix. If one threw a punch first, the other would retaliate. And in the Bito household, it wasn't an issue at large. They wouldn't engage in physical fights on the floor, but if Beat's father raised a hand to discipline him, Beat would either block it or push back before hightailing out of the place.

This time, his father didn't make a move to stop him. He just called after Beat, demanding for him to get back in the room.

He wasn't listening. Beat snatched up his skateboard and yanked open the door, slamming it right as Rhyme shouted his name from the top of the steps.

* * *

Miyashita was nice in the afternoon.

The sea of grass and trees bathed in the setting orange glow of the sun. A calm breeze flitted through the scene rustling leaves quietly, branches clicking together like a woman's heels on the sidewalk. People passing by, the sounds of their feet against pavement, was the only sound ringing throughout the serene park. The single wooden bench, wood chipping away from time's effects, sat alone. Since no one was around, Beat plopped down on the seat, leaning over with forearms resting on knees. He glared at the ground, as if the fight with his father was its fault rather than Beat's poor decisions in testing.

His father just didn't get it.

Who gave a damn if he did poorly? He wasn't _them_, and he certainly wasn't _Rhyme_. He felt like an opossum among a group of flying squirrels. Everyone had control over what they were doing, everyone got along but they avoided him, Beat, like the plague because he was _different_. He wasn't a squirrel. He couldn't just magically undergo change and become everyone's buddy-buddy in one night. Beat was... well, _Beat_. Nobody could change that. the 'rents could rant about how bad he is, how he doesn't try hard in school and how he isn't as studious as his sister. But it wasn't going to encourage him in any way.

"Beat!"

_Ah, hell..._

Beat scowled, not bothering to gaze at the source of the voice as he stood up and began fast walking in the opposite direction.

Couldn't she see he didn't _want _her pity? He was sick of it; pops probably sent her out to butter him up before she shipped him back to the house for a feast. Rhyme didn't care; she was constantly in the spotlight, and Beat? He was in the corner, alone. Like always. Why would Rhyme pity him? She was a squirrel, after all. She didn't understand him. She could lie and sympathize but what was the point? No one knew him better than himself. And he'd be damned if it was going to change.

"Slow down! Can we just talk?" she called, running to catch up with her older brother.

"I ain't in the mood for your pity, Rhyme! Buzz off!" he shouted back before breaking into a run towards Cat Street. He blocked out her voice, strained with a tint of (was that it?) frustration. Great, now his sister even hated him... He really didn't have anyone, did he?

* * *

The old café on Cat Street was always deserted, but the small tables outside the glass doors with their red and blue chairs were welcoming enough. Whether the owner was actually home or not, it never crossed Beat's mind as he sat down on the closest seat, warm from its time under the sun. He knew Rhyme would find him if she was bent on it. But hopefully she just turned around and went home. He didn't want to talk with her, and he certainly didn't want to snap or (heaven forbid) push her away physically. Sometimes Beat didn't even know his own strength.

Beat laid his head down on the table, banging his forehead loudly but it didn't bother him. The streets were empty, no one was watching him, so whatever. He could be as loud and boisterous as he wanted. God forbid it was allowed in his own home... All he needed was a few minutes to himself and then he'd be gone. He needed to take in a few evened breaths and calm his nerves without hitting something. He had no outlet to talk to. Rhyme could recite as many promises as she wanted to, but it wasn't enough. Never was. Just five minutes, really... He'd be gone in-

"Now this is a surprise. You want something? Don't get many customers so you're welcome."

_Good. God. _Beat glanced to the left, eyes resting on a dark-haired man in his (possible) mid twenties. Probably going to yell at him too. "Nah, not really..." He scooted his seat back, standing. "I'm leavin'. Sorry."

Beat had the feeling this guy knew he didn't like being touched or physically stopped. Instead, he had called out his name to halt the younger male. "What's buggin' you, skulls?" (Beat had wrinkled his nose at the fortuitous nickname). "Or you not in the mood for talking about it?"

He kicked at the ground. "Nothin'. Jus' some family problems..." _Why was he trusting this guy? _"It ain't anythin' important. I've dealt with them before an' I can do it again. They jus' raggin' on me 'cause of my marks in school. I ain't no genius 'n yet they expect the best." He shakes his head, ruffling the black beanie atop his head. "An' my sis keeps chasin' me... I don't need her pity. She just comes out here 'cause pops tells her too." Beat distances himself farther away from the strange man, but not out of fear or intimidation. He just feels it's right to find Rhyme now that he's got all the strain off his chest.

The (assumed) owner of the café rubs the back of his neck. "Sounds like you're having some tough issues..." He sighed, letting his arms drop, taking on a more serious gesture. "But you said your sister was searching for you? I may not know you or your family, but it's not safe to let her wander about. It's getting late and around Miyashita and Cat Street it's not safe at night. I don't like arguing with my family either, but sometimes you gotta set aside quarrels to make sure other are okay." He gives a reassuring smile, hand poised on the door to his café, ready to leave the scene. "You're doing all right, kid. Just keep your head up and don't let these things bog you down."

And with the chime of the bell, he's gone, inside the depths of his own store, leaving a curious and somewhat confused Beat. But he doesn't ponder long on the subject before leaving and running back towards Miyashita.

* * *

Rhyme's waiting for him on the bench. And when she sees him, she's neither mad nor upset.

"Beat," she began calmly. "I know you don't want to talk to mom or dad... But running away at a time like this isn't the best idea. They care for you – we all do. Dad's just going through some hard times at work and mom is stressed with bills and she's worried about us. So let's just go home."

He shrugs, but nods nonetheless. "Yeah, 'kay..."

Rhyme seems a bit taken back by his response, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? Did something happen? Are you feeling better?"

The idea of mentioning the man, the café owner, sounds tempting. But Beat keeps quiet, shaking his head with a smile. "Yeah, somethin' happened. Really small but I ain't gonna worry 'bout it. Come on, le's jus' go already!" _Unbeknownst to Beat, this was not the last time he was going to see the mysterious man._

And Beat's taking off again, much to Rhyme's dismay and tired lungs.  
(_but Rhyme doesn't complain because Beat's in a better mood, happy almost.  
And as long as her brother is happy, she's content too.)_


End file.
